By Shelby Peck | Copy Editor
Luke 2:13-14 says, “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!’”
It’s the greatest news the world has ever heard — a savior who would make a way for people to once again be right with a loving God was born. It was a miracle. Peace arrived on Earth in the form of a baby.
This perfect gift of God is the reason we celebrate Christmas. That might sound like a line straight from “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” but it’s true. It’s infinitely remarkable that God, through whom and for whom all things were created, humbled himself into the form of an infant to live a life on Earth as you and I do.
This is why I think the miraculous nature of Christmas is something we often miss. Yes, I probably fall prey to the Target Christmas section and other aspects of commercialism more than the average person, but I feel there’s a difference between a plastic reindeer and simplifying the magnificent wonder of the Nativity story.
One thing that’s had me pondering the topic this year is the newly released “Journey to Bethlehem” film. Full disclaimer: I haven’t seen the movie yet and, as of now, do not have plans to, but I have watched the trailer about seven times. Once you watch it, you’ll understand why.
The film tells the Nativity story through what, in my opinion, is a mashup of “High School Musical” and “The Greatest Showman.” The cast is an eclectic array of some of your favorite stars from your childhood — including Milo Manheim from “Zombies” as Joseph, Christian rapper Lecrae as the angel Gabriel and Antonio Banderas, who you may know as Puss in Boots or Zorro, as King Herod.
You should get the intrigue by now. While I think films like this certainly have their place in making the Bible more accessible and relatable, especially to families with young children, I worry they simplify the incredible story of an indescribable God.
Not only that, I think this particular film might be taking away what makes the Nativity story so ineffable and unfathomable: God was made flesh to dwell among us. He became a baby, born to human parents and raised in human society. He defined what it means to walk humbly.
I could be wrong, but I’m not entirely sure Joseph presented Mary with a bunch of rose petals while surrounded by fireflies, as seen in the “Journey to Bethlehem” trailer — maybe because they lived in ancient Israel. I think there’s an incredibly slim chance Joseph and Mary’s relationship was romantic, especially considering scholars agree she was around the age of 15 when Jesus was born.
I do think that’s what this movie intends to somewhat portray. The Nativity story doesn’t contain a glamorous, picture-perfect family. It consists of a young girl most likely scared out of her mind, a man heavily judged for being betrothed to said seemingly unfaithful girl and then the savior of the world. That makes for a very interesting Christmas card.
In a sermon titled “The First Christmas Carol,” delivered on Dec. 20, 1857, English preacher Charles Spurgeon said, “No greater proof of kindness between the Creator and his subjects can possibly be afforded than when the Creator gives his only begotten and well beloved Son to die.”
The Creator gave his son to die for us and our sins — a debt we could never repay. Even when we had no good will toward one another, or even toward God himself, he only had good will toward us. As Spurgeon put it, “He has said no hard things against you, for he has good will toward men.” He’s only ever seen us in love.
In the midst of watching films such as “Journey to Bethlehem,” it’s essential to remember the humble origins of the manger. It wasn’t a big, flashy musical number (unless you count the angel chorus). A forlorn young family witnessed the hope of the world arrive in the smelly noise of a stable.
Immanuel, meaning “God with us,” came in the form of a baby through whom we can truly experience peace on Earth and good will toward men. That’s far more impactful than an hour-and-a-half musical — it changes everything.
